


Jessica Jones: AKA Fat Girl

by dmarsh14



Category: Marvel WG AU, Marvel Weight Gain Universe
Genre: Belly Kink, F/M, Feeding, Feeding Kink, Force-Feeding, Weight Gain, belly stuffing, slob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 07:37:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6648295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dmarsh14/pseuds/dmarsh14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jessica Jones suffers from severe PTSD, even after killing Kilgrave. This time, she tries to deal by stuffing her belly, not getting drunk.</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. Descent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jessica Jones suffers from severe PTSD, even after killing Kilgrave. This time, she tries to deal by stuffing her belly, not getting drunk.

     Jessica Jones woke suddenly, choking back a scream. Wide eyes darted all around her dark bedroom, searching for danger. Seeing nothing and no one, she finally woke up completely and flopped back down into her bed, drenched in sweat, panting in the aftereffects of terror, and squeezing her hands over her eyes. A nightmare. She had dreamed of her time with _him_ , and the terrible, offhanded cruelty he’d used with anyone who had something he wanted, and worse, the horror he visited purposely on those close to her. Worst of all, she dreamed utter helplessness to stop him, face him down, or even resist what he made her do.  
     She’d expected that her life would get better, when she’d finally ended Kilgrave and his lasting threats to, well, everyone. Far from it. It was bad enough when she’d thought him dead in the bus crash. But she’d managed to deal the the trauma by numbing her mind with alcohol. When he returned, her anxiety got worse, often descending to panic, but at least then she could act. She could _do_ something. She sighed. At least, she could do something once she decided to stop him instead of trying to run from him forever.  
     She realized that, in a perverse way, his return had actually helped her. Knowing he was back drove her as nothing else in her life had. Keeping her wits about her to out-think him, and to resist his powers, kept her on edge, ready for anything. She had a purpose, a goal to work toward. Now, she didn’t even have that. All she had was her memories, and no real way now to exorcise them. Awake, she could tell herself that she’d avenged them, and protected others, by killing him. But when she slept, her fears ran wild, dredging up every memory she had of him. And how could you kill a memory?  
     Still shaky, Jessica sat up and swung her legs to the floor. She was exhausted, but she could feel the fear, the dreams, lurking in her mind, waiting for her to sleep again. She just couldn’t face them. Not yet.  
     Only thing to do, then, was stay up. Wearily, she stumbled out of bed and went to the kitchenette. She grabbed a bottle of whiskey, like she always did. But this time, she stopped and just stared at it. As tired as she was, she was afraid that the alcohol would just send her to sleep again; she couldn’t take that.  
     She flopped onto the couch, grabbed the remote and turned on her TV, looking for something inane and mindless to numb her brain. Late night talk shows should do.  
     After only a few minutes, she got back up and got something to eat. TV and munchies always went together. All she had just now, besides the booze, was a huge bag of chips and a 2-liter bottle of sugary soda. Well, the sugar rush should help her stay awake, at least.  
     Settling in, she popped the bag open and grabbed a handful, shoving them in her mouth as she stared at the TV. She wouldn’t let her mind get away from her again. Back to him. He was dead, for sure this time. It was over.  
     Alternating mouthfuls of chips with long drags on the bottle, Jessica watched the content-free show, using it to avoid thinking deep thoughts. She really couldn’t care less about the latest celebrity fad, or even those new superheroines everybody was talking about. Or their influence on pop culture and beauty. What did she care how fat somebody was? If they were healthy, let them look however they wanted. And if they weren’t, well, the only way it would matter to her was if she was chasing them, and then, that would help her, so that’s fine. But the drabble of the host and his guests of the night let her mind relax safely. She almost went to a trance-like state, mechanically stuffing her mouth with the chips and soda.  
     Once the late-night talk shows went off, Jessica shook her head to clear it, then got up, leaving the bag on her couch and the half-empty bottle on the table, and trudged off to bed. She sat on the edge, drained and exhausted. Flopping onto her side, she started to close her eyes.  
     And opened them instantly, already panting and terrified. He was still there, dammit! The dreams were still waiting. Sighing, she went back to the couch, the TV, and her snacking. This time, an old movie. That should do it.  
     Settling in again, she returned to mechanically stuffing the whole bag of chips down her throat, one mouthful at a time, and downed the entire 2-liter bottle of sugary soda with it. As the movie finished up and went off, Jessica just leaned back on the couch, absently rubbing her stuffed belly, moaning quietly, and burping from the carbonation.  
     She barely noticed drifting off to sleep.

     She woke the next morning, still sprawled on the couch. Glancing blearily at the clock, she saw that she’d slept for 3 hours or so. Well, that was more than she’d expected to get, she thought tiredly. Had she finally gotten so tired that she didn’t dream? Or was it something else? Maybe her full stomach, and the sense of comfort and safety it generated?  
     Between her stiffness from sleeping sitting up on the couch, and the new heft to her still-packed belly, it took her a bit of effort to get up. But she did, finally, and got ready for her day’s work.  
     Throughout the day, she kept drinking. Soda, now, not whiskey. Caffeinated and sugary, to keep her awake and fueled. She was still tired, and didn’t want to risk crashing before she could get her head together.

     That night, she was still exhausted from her lack of sleep the night before, and from a full day’s casework on top of it. She changed into her sleep clothes, and was out almost before she hit the pillow.  
     Moments later, she woke screaming again. Sitting on the edge of the bed, panting off the adrenaline, she stared at the floor. Then, she got up, went to her newly-stocked pantry, and grabbed another bag of snacks (cheese puffs, this time), and grabbed another 2-liter of soda on her way to the couch.  
     Popping open the bag, twisting off the cap and tossing it on the table, she flipped channels, looking for something. She couldn’t deal with the stupid talk-shows tonight. What else was there? Finally settling on some aliens-must-have-visited-ancient-Egypt thing, she ate and drank her way through the night. Once the cheese puffs were gone, she just went to get a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels. Crunching them down, she thought, _ugh, that might have been a mistake_ ; so sweet, they took lots of soda to wash down. She quickly polished off the whole 2-liter bottle, then went and grabbed another.  
     Hours later, she’d polished off both bottles, and 2 full bags of salty, then sweet, snacks. Still watching the ancient-ETs-visited-us thing (did they always run mini-marathons of these crazy shows?), Jessica rubbed her belly again. Not absently this time; she was rubbing it to try and ease the discomfort of the over-packed sensation it broadcast through her body. No wonder, it was twice the size it was last night. She pressed her fingers against the dome of her rising belly, drawing a moan from her own lips. Man, it was packed tight in there! She was mildly surprised she’d managed to stuff so much in. Experimentally now, she rubbed her packed dome of a belly gently, eliciting a long loud burp. The rubbing actually felt pretty good, and it caused more belching, easing some of the pressure. The tightness of the packed food transmitted the gentle caresses through her body quite well. Relaxing into the sensations, she glanced down and caught her foot tapping against the edge of the table, and thought that her sugar rush should be able to keep her up for a while.  
     But she drifted off, still rubbing her stuffed belly contentedly.

     And so it went on. Every night, she woke screaming from nightmares of him. But now, whenever she woke, she didn’t even try to go back to sleep. She grabbed munchies and numbed her brain with TV until she felt ready to try to sleep again. Often, she went till dawn, eating nonstop, stuffing her belly full and fuller than before, then stumbled through her day, exhausted.  
     Even during the day, she’d hop into a donut place, or a convenience store, and grab some portable food and soda, sugary and caffeinated, to consume as she went about a job.  
     Gradually, her endless eating away of her anxiety started to show. So subtle, she missed it for a long while; her belly softened, edging ever so slowly over her pants into a little muffin-top, then a large one. Her arms swelled unnoticed, until they were flabby, and soft flesh hung down when she lifted them. Then, she noticed, certainly, but since her strength was unaffected, she couldn’t really bring herself to care enough to slow down, let alone stop, her nightly stuffings.  
     Her legs billowed out, too, and finally jiggled with each step. Her legs she noticed, when her jeans got too snug. At first, she just thought she’d messed up her laundry, but no. Every pair she tried was just as tight. Finally she had to admit that her legs were too fat to fit in her jeans. Exhausted from her lack of sleep, and fighting Kilgrave constantly in her nightmares, she couldn’t muster the energy to care very much, and shrugging, she just switched to loose sweats.  
     Her steady expansion didn’t interfere with her work in the least. Super-strength did have some advantages. What started costing her was her continual insomnia. The dreams seemed to worsen, rather than ease. Now she would be up nearly all night, every night, eating her way through the small hours as she watched anything, the most inane, the loudest infomercials, anything at all to keep her mind occupied.

     It got to the point where she would anticipate the terrors, and not even try to sleep, planting herself on her couch, with the remote, and an ever-increasing cache of food and soda spread out over the couch, within easy reach, for her to consume late into the night.  
     By now, she would often stay up the whole night through, nearly 8 hours, eating nonstop and guzzling sugary soda to keep herself away from sleep.

     Eventually, most of her jobs dried up, and left her idle and alone with her thoughts. Not pleasant company, but what could she do? She’d burned most of her bridges during the end-game those months ago. She had no recourse left, except food. Most of her meager remaining income went to stocking her fridge and pantry, to keep herself stuffed, packed to her limits.  
     Now with no reason to leave her apartment, and only her endless feeding a reason to get out of bed at all, she left off doing anything but eating and TV. Still tired (and totally isolated anyway), she didn’t waste any energy on manners, or cleaning. Only when a noticeable piece of food fell out of her mouth did she bother to pick it up, and only to put it back in her mouth. And the only time she wasn’t stuffing food in her mouth or guzzling huge draughts of soda was when she paused for a long, loud burp from the unending deluge of soda. Quickly, her last remaining outfit, her largest ever pair of sweats, became covered in crumbs littering her swelling bosom, and various grease-stains from her (rare) attempts to wipe off her hands, mostly to ensure her grip on a huge soda bottle.  
     One last time, she got up, and gathered her soda and food supplies around her on the couch, in easy reach, and even on top of her bloated belly. Settling in for the long haul, she mindlessly stuffed herself endlessly with one hand, and surfed channels with the other.  
     Her hair, matted and unkempt, kept falling forward over her face, trailing into her food. When it would get into her mouth, she’d just spit it back out, and use the wrist of her remote-hand to push it away, uncaring of the food residue building up on it, or the bits that fell off onto her engorged, constantly full belly. If anybody could come around to see her, they would never recognize Jessica Jones, the caustic, brash PI. She’d degenerated into a shapeless blob of fat, packed tight into a sweatsuit that bulged around her ballooning flab, seams straining to contain her huge paunch, and covered in uncounted flecks of uneaten debris. Her face was slack and bloated, her cheeks and lower jaw crusted with bits of unchewed food. Her hair, greasy and lank, fell lifeless over her shoulders, trailing through the bits, crumbs, and grease on her sweatshirt, and leaving more behind as it dragged.  
     Still steadily ballooning with her (now literally) endless stuffing, soon enough she outgrew even the current sweatsuit, tearing through the seams over the course of a mere 8 hours. Barely noticing, and caring even less, she just shrugged out of the tattered scraps and kept stuffing her face.  
     Still trying to numb her mind and quiet the dreams, she couldn’t find the strength to care that her endless, almost mindless eating in front of the TV was putting weight on her faster than ever. She’d already put on nearly 50 pounds in just a month or so, and still she stuffed her face with more and more every night.  
     Gradually, as she went on, she started to associate the food with comfort, with peace. Little by little, she began eating not to numb her anxiety, but just to eat. The endless glut of food became an end in itself, instead of only a respite and defense from her night terrors. Eating for pleasure instead of defense only drove her to stuff herself faster, and accelerated her gaining, and within weeks, she had doubled her mass, then doubled it again.  
     By now, she was immense, almost totally round, her legs covered by her mammoth and still expanding belly, her arms sagging and dripping with fat, her butt blowing up so she sat higher on the couch, nearly up to her standing height. Her breasts were gargantuan, puffy and swollen with fat, hanging down off the sides of her massive stomach. Her feet (all she could still see of her legs) and her arms, had blimped to huge inflated caricatures of her former strong limbs, now nearly as big around as her waist used to be. Her hands were distorted to softballs, barely able to work the remote or feed herself. But feed she did, and while changing the channels, searching for new things to watch as she stuffed herself endlessly.


	2. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Trish breaks her way in to Jessica's apartment and tries to pull her out of her PTSD spiral.

     Finally, after weeks and months of ignoring her phone (she didn’t even really hear it anymore), Jessica couldn’t ignore the insistent pounding on her door. But she tried to anyway.  
“Jess! Jessica! Open up!” came the angry voice of her adopted sister, Trish Walker, through the door.  
     In answer, Jessica managed only a groan through the unending deluge of food she still shoved inside her maw. “G’way. ‘M busy,” she finally managed.  
     “Is that you? Are you okay?” Trish called. The door shook as Trish used her key but found the manual deadbolt shut. “Dammit, Jess! I’m coming in!”  
     The door splintered, once, then again, and finally fell open as Trish used her martial-arts training to take it out. She staggered in, a bit off-balance from the force she’d used, then stopped dead, gaping at her sister. Jessica herself didn’t even react to Trish’s entrance, just kept stuffing her face, and flipped the channel on the TV.  
     Trish could barely recognize her sister, ensconced on the couch, covered with and surrounded by empty food bags, crusted with uneaten debris, her hair hanging lank in her face, its ends dripping with food and grease. Trish’s eyes drifted over her sister’s new body. Jessica’s huge belly was most prominent, hanging down over her legs in a heavy apron, nearly reaching her knees. Her legs were quite thick, thighs bulging and leading to her very wide hips, pushed out ever wider, sitting on the couch. Jessica’s arms rested atop her mammoth paunch, one hand holding the TV remote, the other diving endlessly into whatever bag of snacks was convenient. Trish saw the flab drooping from her nearly-invisible muscles. Jessica’s hands were soft too, her fingers bloated into breakfast sausage links. Edging to her side, Trish could see Jessica’s enormous butt, ballooned out and lifting her massively fat body higher off the couch cushions and pushing it forward from the back of the couch. She stared, astonished, at Jessica’s equally enormous bosom, resting atop her gargantuan belly, and sliding off the sides, nearly touching the couch seat beside her wide wide hips in their hugeness.  
     Shaking her head to pull herself together, Trish crossed the room and stood as close as she could manage to Jessica. “What the hell have you done to yourself?” she demanded.  
     Now unable to ignore her, Jessica finally, for the first time in weeks, put the food down and lowered the remote. “What?” She mumbled through her still-packed-full mouth.  
     “Jess! What have you done?”  
     “Eating makes me feel better.”  
     Stunned into silence, Trish just stared at her. Finally, she tried again. “You’re immense! How much do you weigh?”  
     Jessica looked down at her new body. Her eyes widened (Trish thought; it was hard to tell, as buried as her eyes were in the folds of enormous flab around her face, and caked as they were with crusts and crumbs of food). “Whoa,” Jessica said. “I’m huge!”  
     “Yeah!” cried Trish.  
     “Oh, well,” Jessica said with a shrug, picking up another huge handful of food that Trish couldn’t even identify.  
     “Wait a minute!” She said, grabbing for Jessica’s hand. Only to be shown clearly that her sister’s strength hadn’t diminished one bit.  
     Jessica just tensed her enormous flabby arm, and Trish couldn’t move it an inch. Jessica pulled her hand towards her gaping mouth, dragging Trish along with it. As she shoved the food in, crunching it, crumbs spewed from her mouth, falling onto her naked (as Trish could now see, between the nearly solid crust of residue) breasts, and spewing onto Trish’s hands.  
     Letting go, Trish stood back and yelled, “Jessica! Stop!”  
     Jessica barely looked at her. “No. Eating makes me feel better.”  
     Breaking down totally, Trish yelled back, “You said that already! What does that even mean?”  
     Sighing, as if distracted by an idiot from the most important task in the world, Jessica answered, “keeping my belly stuffed stops the dreams.”  
     Trish gasped, thinking that she understood. Now asking pointed questions, she got the whole story of the past few months out of her sister, bits and pieces squeezed out between endless stuffing.  
     When Jessica finally finished the story, Trish sighed. “Okay, I guess,” she said. “I can understand why you went this way. But you could have called me. I’d have helped.”  
     Jessica, now digging herself out of the abyss, looked a little chagrined, and more than a little angry. Trish actually smiled; her sister was recovering. “Well,” she said, tugging on her sister’s massive wrist, still caked in greasy crumbs, “let’s get you cleaned up.”  
     Now starting to feel a little bit better, Jessica levered herself up out of the couch. Even with Trish’s help, and her own incredible strength, it took a lot of effort and considerable time to stagger to her feet.  
     She let Trish lead her to the bathroom, only for the two women to find out Jessica couldn’t even fit through the door any more. Trish dropped her wrist, and put her hands on her hips. “Huh. OK, plan B,” she said, turning Jessica around and heading for the kitchen. Chattering calming, cheerful inanities to Jessica, Trish grabbed a box of trash bags and quickly unfolded several, taping them together to form an improvised waterproof tarp on the floor. After she’d taped the edges to the bottom of several cabinets, forming almost a shallow pool, she had Jessica step into the middle. She grabbed the dishwashing hose, stripped down herself, and hopped onto the tarp.  
     She spent the next half-hour or so, hosing down her sister, scrubbing the caked crud off of her body, digging in Jessica’s new deep creases to scrape out all the food bits she could find. Running to the bathroom, she grabbed shampoo and scrubbed her sister’s hair clean again. It took 5 full lather and rinse cycles.  
     Hygiene taken care of, she sat down on the couch (taking great care to cover it with more trash bags; no way she was going to sit in that mess) next to Jessica.  
     Immediately, Jessica absently grabbed yet another bag of snacks and started mindlessly stuffing her face as they talked.  
     Talking to her sister again really helped Jessica pull out of her spiral. That night, after her sister had left with promises to come back in the morning, and feeling stronger than she had in weeks, Jessica tried an experiment. She only let herself get 2 family-size bags of chips, and one of cookies, and only 3 bottles of soda. Once those were done, barely 1 am, she steeled herself and went to bed.  
     As she lowered her heavy body onto the bed, creaking under her new weight, she started rubbing her massive, soft belly in her new self-comfort mechanism. She closed her eyes, fearful, but the gentle caresses on her belly, even though she did them herself, drowned out and covered any other thoughts. Sighing happily, she drifted off to sleep.

     The next morning, she woke, refreshed and rested for the first time in months. She smiled at her success. She couldn’t drink him away any more, but now she could eat him away. She resolved immediately to make sure she kept her income so she could keep herself stocked with all the food she could ever want, no matter how much that became.  
     When Trish arrived, Jessica happily told her what had happened last night. Trish beamed, and said, “you see? You don’t have to live like that to keep the dreams at bay.”  
     Jessica shrugged, saying “Yeah, I suppose not. But, you know, I think I like it.” At Trish’s incredulous look, she went on, rubbing her enormous body happily, “oh, I don’t mean that slobby laziness, but keeping my stomach stuffed to capacity is actually a really nice feeling.”  
     Now Trish shrugged. “Well, with your strength, mobility won’t be a problem,” she said. “And with the Defenders around, nobody can say you’re too fat to do a job.”  
     Confused a moment, Jessica remembered the new team of superheroes. “That’s what those women call themselves? Huh.”

     Eventually, a new case came her way. She had gotten herself back together and, with her sister’s help, refitted her apartment, so that it could accommodate her new enormity.  
     Her stomach was immense, sticking out forward nearly her original body depth, and hanging down in a huge apron of fat that completely covered her panties and reached nearly to her knees. Her breasts were huge now, nearly as far out from her body as her enormous stomach, and sagging down heavily onto the shelf formed by her massive belly. Her hips and rear were vast, spreading out nearly a foot to either side and straining the already-larger size panties to their limits. Her legs made nearly perfect cone shapes, expanding steadily from her fattened ankles to her wide, wide hips. Her arms drooped with flab, more than triple their original size, and forming their own aprons, covering her elbows. Even her hands and feet were bloated, bulbous and puffy. Fingers and toes also were bloated, swollen to twice normal size. Even her face was rounded, huge cheeks inflated with fat and so many chins that her face blended seamlessly into her neck and shoulders.  
     She tugged on her new wardrobe (honestly, just like her old one, except much much larger). She couldn’t really perch on the table any more, but she still settled comfortably in her new chair. In a few minutes, a parent came in.  
     Trish led her in, talking quietly to her. The Asian woman was matronly, solid and sturdy. Her hair was up in a tight bun, grey hair mixed in with the black, and she was wearing a neat skirt suit, with low heels, clicking sharply with each step. She walked right up to Jessica’s table, and sat opposite her, only looking once down her body, and not reacting at all.  
     Jessica was actually impressed. The times she’d gone out, mostly shopping, since she crawled out of her depression, the clerks had always jumped when she came in. None of them had said anything, or even given her sneers, but they’d all reacted to her new size.  
     “Ms. Jones?” the woman said in a clear contralto, with just a barely-noticeable accent. Jessica nodded.  
     “Miss Walker told me that you can help me,” she continued, turning to indicate Trish with a slight gesture.  
     “Help you with what?”  
     “My name is Ayame Takahashi. My daughter, Jocelyn, has been missing for 2 months. The police have had no success finding her.”  
     “And you think I’ll have better luck?”  
     “I think you will find her, yes,” the woman responded serenely.  
     Jessica leaned back, looking at the woman, and rubbing her huge belly absently, as was her new habit. She could see the wear on the woman’s face; the wrinkles around her eyes seemed to indicate her long worry; studying her posture, Jessica saw her weariness. Jessica was likely her last hope, her last chance of finding her daughter.  
     “I need to know everything you know, or suspect,” she said. “And I’ll need as current a picture of her as you have.”


	3. Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jessica's first case after pulling out of her feeding spiral is to find a college student who's gone missing. Of course, she does, and rescues her from her abductors, after discovering something strange about the girl.

     Jessica set out as soon as Ms. Takahashi was gone, with Trish along. Trish was the one who’d recommended the woman to Alias Investigations, both because the girl needed rescue, and Jessica needed some action to get her away from her spiral.  
     The last place her mother knew she’d been was at college at Empire State. Trolling around the college buildings, showing her photo to students, and munching on portable snacks all the while, Jessica finally found a friend of hers.  
     “Yeah, Josie,” said a woman, Felicity Lane. “Haven’t seen her for months. I kinda thought she gave up on the college scene and went home. We weren’t really that tight; we had some classes together, and went to some of the same parties.”  
     Jessica shrugged that off, and pressed, “when’s the last time you saw her?”  
     Felicity thought a bit, then shrugged, “not totally sure, but I remember we went to a party at Phi Epsilon Delta. It’s a frat on campus. Their parties are usually good, but kinda, well, weird.”  
     Jessica’s antennae went up. “Weird how?” She asked.  
     “Well,” Felicity hesitated, looking nervous and rubbing her hands down her very large belly. Not nearly the size of Jessica’s though. “They go for women built like..."  
     Jessica nodded slightly and said, “like us?”  
     “Well, yeah. They even have feeding parties. All you can eat, free, and if you get hot, any of the brothers are only too happy to work off the calories, they call it.”  
     “Did Josie fall to the ‘Freshman 15’?”  
     Felicity snorted. “I saw her like the first week. More like freshman 50 by the end of first semester. And she never stopped, either. She’s easy 200, maybe 250 pounds heavier than when she got here.”  
     “Did she hang out at Phi Epsilon Delta a lot? Did she have a boyfriend or anything?”  
     “No boyfriend, not that I know,” said Felicity. “A lot of the Phi Delt’s were sniffing around, especially after she started gaining.” She shrugged. “They do that, but most of them are cool.”  
     “Who isn’t?”  
     “There’s a couple creeps, but nothing different than any frat boys.”  
     Jessica leaned in, intensely. “Do you have names?”

     Alone now, Jessica headed to the Phi Epsilon Delta house. She sent Trish home, saying she might need help researching anything that came up. Glancing at her watch, she saw it was getting near dinner time. She figured several of the frat might be there. She knocked on the main door, and waited a minute or so.  
     “Hey, what’s u--wow!” Said the college boy who opened the door. “Hello, beautiful,” he went on, trying to be cool. “Haven't seen you before. How can I help you? You hungry?”  
     “Hi,” Jessica said coolly. “I’m looking for Christopher Young.”  
     “Pity,” he said, ogling her body up and down. Jessica saw his eyes dart towards the sides of the doorway, comparing her body’s width to the width of the door. She saw him unconsciously lick his lips when he saw how close she was to filling the whole doorway. “Wait, Chris?” he added, sharpening up. “What did he do now?”  
     Jessica leaned back and crossed her arms, resting them on her stomach. “Why are you sure he did something?”  
     Looking nervous, the boy hesitated, then looking over his shoulder, said, “look. You gotta understand, we try to keep a leash on the problems. Most of us do, anyway, but we can’t be everywhere.”  
     Waving away the apologies and equivocations, Jessica shot back, “fine. Not all of you are creeps. What has Young done?”  
     “Well, nothing, really, not that I know of. But he pushes, hard. Harder than most girls like. Eventually, he takes the hint, but..."  
     Jessica glared at him and prompted, “but..."  
     “Okay, you clearly know the preferences of most of the brothers here, right? Chris has a thing for feeding. Even force-feeding. Most of the time, he gets permission ahead of time, full consent and all, but a couple times, it’s gone too fast, and the woman wasn’t interested. Every time somebody sees it, we get on him about it, but I don’t know what might happen when he’s alone.”  
     “Fine. Do you know Joselyn Takahashi?”  
     “Josie? Yeah, she used to hang out here, lots of times. She was great, fun and friendly. She could eat too. Really eat. It was great watching her grow. Always up for a snack, if you get me.”  
     Jessica just stared coolly at him. “Yeah, I get you,” she said stonily. “She date anybody?”  
     The frat boy thought a minute, then sighed. “Don’t think so. Definitely not me. Would have been fun, too. She would come to our foodie parties, though. Lots of times. I’d say at least half of her was from our parties.”  
     “She have any favorites? Or any special admirers?” Jessica pressed.  
     “Not that I know.”  
     “So where is Chris now?”  
     The frat boy looked surprised. “It’s dinner hour. He’s trolling the cafeteria. Where else?”

     Crossing campus, Jessica thought it through. This Chris Young honestly didn’t seem likely, especially if he really was at the cafeteria, but he probably watched Joselyn closely at the party. If he wasn’t in on her disappearance, he might have seen something.  
     The cafeteria was public-access, no ID needed to get in. Glancing around as she went through the line, Jessica made sure that there was little security and no ID scanners around. Not only for her own intrusion, but if there weren’t, it’d be all too easy to snatch somebody, or lure them, from here, and nobody would likely notice much. She loaded up her tray, covering it edge-to-edge (and two layers deep) and saw, as the cashier rang up her total, students scanning their cards at the cashier (meal plans or something), but many of them paid cash just as she did.  
     Sitting at a table by the wall, she scanned the huge room as she absently downed the whole tray. Soon enough, she saw a male who matched the sketchy description she’d gotten from Felicity and his frat brother. He was sitting alone, in a corner table not too far from her, scanning back and forth through the dining area. While Jessica watched him, still stuffing her face on auto-pilot, he spied a girl, a bit pudgy, but not exceptionally fat, and watched her avidly. As she crossed the hall, he followed her with his eyes. Jessica saw him transfer his gaze as the girl passed another, larger than her, and started to follow her. This actually went on for several minutes, Young changing from one girl to the next, each one larger and fatter than the last. Finally, he stayed with one, nearly as huge as Jessica herself, but not quite, and when she sat, he stood and headed for her. She wasn’t sitting alone and isolated, but it looked like the girls she was with were casual, not really close friends.  
     Jessica suddenly realized she was on the very last big mouthful of her dinner, rose and crossed the room, angling to intercept Young. She already figured out how to handle him. As soon as he saw her, he’d likely follow her anywhere.  
     The boy was still staring at his quarry, not really paying attention to anything else. Jessica figured he was rehearsing his come-on. He seemed to be counting on others to dodge him, rather than distract himself from the hugely fat girl he was focused on.  
     Jessica smiled predatorily, and walked right into him. Her mass sent him to the floor, and he glared up, starting to yell. Keeping her gambit going, Jessica held her face into embarrassment and apology, but internally she grinned at how the words scrambled in his mouth when he saw her. For just a second or two, she stood over him, letting his eyes roam over her wide wide hips, her belly sagging down over him, her thighs squeezed together so that no space remained between them.  
     Then, she reached down, saying, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was headed. Are you okay?”  
     Recovering a bit, and slipping back into his charming facade, he smiled up at her. “No, no,” he said warmly. “It was my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going either. It’s no problem, especially for a woman as impressive as you.”  
     Jessica let herself smile shyly. “Impressive?” she said, with a little moue.  
     Back on his feet now, and leaning far into her personal space, Young said, “well, I’d think ‘beautiful’ is a bit forward for our first meeting.”  
     She couldn’t make herself blush, but she lowered her eyes coyly.  
     “Let me make it up to you, gorgeous,” he said, holding out his hand. “I know a diner, just off campus. Buy you dinner?” His eyes drifted down her body, and she thought that he already knew she was full from her own eating, but he put her in a position where refusing would be rude. Likely, he wanted her to overeat, stuffing her belly way past full, so he could get off.  
With just enough hesitation, she thought, Jessica said, “um, sure,” and let him put his hand, gently, on her back, guiding her towards the door.  
     Outside, Jessica stayed aware of the people around them, and noted security cams around the quad as he escorted her towards this diner. Just as they passed a little alley-way between two buildings, she leaned in and pushed him into it, out of general view and away from cameras.  
     Taken aback at first, he leaned into her soft flab as she pushed him against the wall, letting her fat roll over him. He actually shivered, his eyes closing slightly. “Well, you’re certainly eager. Do you want it right here, or should we head to my place? Or yours?”  
     Letting her face mirror her feelings for the first time, Jessica just glared coldly at him. “Josie Takahashi.”  
     His face fell, but he still didn’t give up. “Oh, man, come on. I already told you cops everything I know. Why don’t you take a break? We could still have that dinner?” he finished hopefully.  
     Now using her full strength, Jessica grabbed the front of his shirt and lifted him totally off his feet, slamming him against the wall. “You think I’m a cop?”  
     Now starting to get it, Young began sweating, and not from his own heat. “Aw, c’mon, lady! I got nothing to do with her leaving.”  
     Still holding him up, Jessica growled, “so it’s ‘lady’ now, huh?” Then, cold again, she went on, “Josie Takahashi. What do you know?”  
     “Josie?” he sputtered. “She was hot. Really could eat, too. Hasn't been around for a while.”  
     Jessica pulled him away, then slammed him back into the wall. “What else?”  
     Dazed from the impact, Young said, “whadaya mean, what else? She's gone, left school.”  
     Jessica didn't answer; she just held him high, feet not even close to the ground. He stammered some more, then added, “okay, okay! We partied some, in private! She loved to eat, let me feed her as much as she wanted.” When Jessica shook him again, he corrected himself. “All right! As much as I wanted. But she was fine with it, I swear! She gulped every bite; we went farther than she dared on her own, but she loved it! I swear!”  
     “Right,” she growled. “Tie her down and keep her mouth too stuffed to talk and tell yourself she ‘wants’ it.”  
     Really scared now, he all but screamed, “no, no. No bondage! She was loose, I swear! And we talked dirty a little too. She could've said stop whenever she wanted. Did, too, a couple times early on.” He seemed disappointed at that. Jessica started to think he wasn't lying.  
     Still upset, though, Jessica said, “she didn't leave school. She's disappeared. Anybody bothering her? Paying too much attention? Besides you?”  
     “No, nobody. At our public parties, everybody who likes seeing big women eat big, or who is one, is welcome. We have private too, brothers and guests of honor only, but none of us would do something like that. Share the bounty, that's what we do. Unless the girl gets a boyfriend.” He smiled a bit. “And if it's somebody like Josie, we just envy him.”  
     Letting him down, but not letting go, Jessica asked her question. “So when was the last party she went to?”  
     When Young started to stammer, Jessica shook him again, gently compared to the previous. “You watched her. When was the last time you saw her?”  
     “I don't remember! I swear I don't! It was months ago.”  
     “Two months. When did you have a party around then?”  
     Getting the date, she let him go and turned to leave. “Wait!” he called. She turned back.  
     “I saw her one more time. The next day at lunch. I spend the whole lunch rush in the caf whenever I can.” He gave a weak grin, adding “I like the view.”  
     She just stared at him, hard, until he went on. “Anyway, she'd outdone herself at the party. It was amazing how much she put away. We thought she'd have to be rolled out after. As it was, four or five brothers helped her into a spare bedroom we had, so she could sleep it off. Alone. She was practically out, from the overeating, you know how it is? And that’s a hard rule. No messing around if they’re out. No matter what. Man, lying on the bed, her tummy was nearly as tall as her standing up on the floor. It was gorgeous.  
     “Anyway, even as stuffed to the limit she must have still been, there she was, packing even more away, like always. She was insatiable.” He actually sighed at the memory.  
     At last, Jessica thought. A lead. “What time did she leave the caf?” she asked.  
     “Maybe 2, 2:30? I'm not really sure, this long after. It was more than an hour, though. Even after that stuffing party the night before.” He shook his head, likely in admiration of her abilities, and her remembered packed, bulging belly.  
     “Fine,” she said, walking away. She turned back one last time. “Thanks. And don't be a creep.”  
     She stalked off, already thinking. If Joselyn went missing after lunch the day after the party, then the frat boys likely had nothing to do with it. She glanced over her shoulder, considering... It seemed Young was telling the truth, and the boy at the door even more likely was.  
     So, now she had to figure a way to get the campus police surveillance footage from 2 months ago, if it wasn’t already erased. And have it long enough to find Joselyn in it. And if she was lucky, track her until she was taken. The cops certainly reviewed the images, so since they had no leads (that they’d shared with Ms. Takahashi, at least), there was likely no footage of the actual abduction. But she had resources (if they’d talk to her now), and knowledge that the police didn’t. She might see something on the recordings that could help.  
Now, how to get at them...  
     After a bit of digging, she realized that it wouldn’t be at all simple. The security cam records were highly secured, what with student privacy issues. It seemed that only campus police could get to it, or of course, police or FBI, but only with the college president’s knowledge and approval. She didn’t want to push to higher-ups with just a PI license, not if she wasn’t positive it would work.  
     She could only think of one way that might work. Only “might,” but without any better ideas, she had to try it. She pulled her cell phone and dialed her sister. “Trish? Yeah, I think I need some help with this case..."

     The next day, Jessica was back at Phi Epsilon Delta. As it happened, the same one opened the door again. “Hi! Glad to see you again!” he said, again openly ogling her.  
     She just stared him down, till he finished and looked back up to her face. He did have the decency to look embarrassed. He even blushed. “Sorry,” he said. “You’re just so..."  
     With a one-sided grin, Jessica replied, “so what?”  
     Still blushing, he shrugged. “Gorgeous.”  
     “You really liked Josie, didn’t you?” Jessica said.  
     He nodded emphatically. “Oh, yeah. It wasn’t just the eating, or her sexy body she was growing. She’s a nice girl. I was real sad when she left school.”  
     “You didn’t hear about the police investigation?”  
     That stopped him. “Well, yeah,” he said, surprised. “They grilled us, all of us, ‘cause Josie went to so many of our parties. But they didn't find anything, and just, kinda gave up. So she didn’t just leave?”  
     “No, she didn’t. And I need some help to find out who took her and where she is now.”  
     “I don’t know how I could help. Or any of us,” he argued. “Clearly the cops didn’t think we had anything to do with it.”  
     “Yeah, but I need to get security footage from when she was last seen. Maybe I can see somebody the cops missed.”  
     “Can’t you get the admins to let you have access, like officially?”  
     “I’ve had people try. The administration wants this over with. The police couldn’t find anything from the tapes, and, with--”  
     He finished with her, “with student privacy issues,” then he went on as Jessica trailed off, “the admins won’t want to let anybody into the records.”  
     Jessica nodded. “Exactly.”  
     “So how can I help?”  
     “Can I come in? What’s your name, anyway?”  
     “Oh!” he stammered. “Sorry. I’m Craig. Craig Foster.” He stuck out his hand, and they shook. (Of course, she already knew his name, and his major; she’d looked him up on social media and the school’s public site.)  
     Inside, they sat on one of several very large, soft sofas in the common room. Keeping up her subtlety, she asked, “what’s your major, Craig?”  
     “Comp Sci. Specializing in security,” he said proudly.  
     “Really?” she beamed. “That’s great. Would you be willing to try to get into campus security and copy the video recordings from the day Josie vanished?”  
     Craig stopped cold. “Hack into campus security? I dunno. I mean, I like Josie and all, but I could get expelled, or even arrested for that.”  
     “I know. But only if you get caught. I can go around campus, doing some minor harassment and vandalism to help clear out the security office. If you guys could throw a really loud disruptive party, that’d help too. Once the room’s empty, you’d just need to get through the electronic stuff, and I know you can do that, can’t you, Craig?” By the end of her explanation, she was practically cooing at him, and she went so far as to snuggle against his body a bit. Male ego took over, and he said, “well, sure I can. I even have a couple tricks figured I could try already. I just never wanted to risk it.”  
     He wavered, thinking hard for a few minutes. Jessica stayed quiet, watching him intently, gauging his response. She could see concern for Josie, worry about consequences, and his own geek ego, flash across his face. Finally, he sat up a little straighter. She thought she knew his decision, confirmed it when he asked, “do you even know what day she went missing?”  
     “Well, no, not exactly. But Chris saw her at the cafeteria the day after the party you had that month. I figure you could start there, and give me maybe 2 days worth of images?”  
     He did some estimating, then said, “I can do that. I’ll need about 20 minutes to transfer the files. Another 10, maybe 15 to get past the firewalls.”  
     “Okay. If you can keep the cops busy without getting into too much trouble with a wild party for that long, I can get some help to get the other on-duty cops running all over campus.”  
     That night, as Phi Epsilon Delta set up for a major party, Jessica and Trish prepared to creep out students.The brothers were only too glad to cut loose and cause disturbances to pull security out; they all genuinely like Joselyn and were happy to help out somebody that could maybe find her.  
     It went surprisingly smooth; Trish and Jessica kept 4 or 5 campus security officers running around campus, and 3 more went to Phi Delt, surprised at that call, at least. They were usually quiet and kept their parties inside the house. Around midnight, having dodged the cops, Trish and Jessica found their way back to the frat house, which was still partying, although the warning from security finally got through and they were keeping in inside.  
     Jessica sent Trish home, and knocked on the door of the now-quiet frat house. As it happened, it was Chris Young who opened it. A little flushed, he first just saw her massive body and called, “wow! You here for the feeding party, beautiful?” As he scanned up her body, ogling her jiggling legs, her paunch hanging down over her wide-bulging hips, up her sagging, swelling bosom and her flabby bloated arms. Finally seeing her face, rounded cheeks prominent, he actually jumped when he realized it was Jessica. “Oh, I’m sorry, lady. I didn’t mean anything.”  
     Jessica brushed by him. “I’m not here to mess with you. Where’s Craig?”  
     Young backed up fast before her. “Um, he’s upstairs in his room. Second floor, fourth door on the right.”  
     Smiling sweetly, Jessica stroked his cheek, saying, “thanks.” She was entirely too pleased when he jerked back and fell against the wall as she passed.  
     Scanning the main floor for the stairs, she saw huge piles of junk food and sweets everywhere; on folding tables spread out over the room, on the various end tables, most flat surfaces in the room. Nearly every soft surface (couches, easy chairs, lounge chairs, even a few futons likely brought from the bedrooms) had a fat girl sprawled comfortably on it. Every one was chewing something. As Jessica snuck past, towards the stairs, she saw one girl open her mouth eagerly; instantly, two of the frat boys stuffed huge handfuls into her mouth (a third was just a bit too slow and couldn’t fit his in). Happily, the girl chewed the massive load, difficult though it clearly was. She gulped desperately, swallowing the half-chewed mouthful and opened again for more.  
     Another girl was lying on her back, arms tucked behind her head comfortably, sucking on a long tube from a huge tub over her head. Jessica could actually see the girl’s stomach inflate with the liquid.  
     Yet another was holding court like a queen, accepting hand-offs from a whole group of frat boys, selecting them and putting them in her mouth almost daintily, but very quickly with one hand, while the other rubbed her fully-packed belly. Before Jessica started up the stairs, she saw two of the girl’s “court” reach up to gently rub her belly for her. The girl smiled at them happily and immediately used her other hand to join the first and feed herself faster.  
     At her short glimpse, it really did seem that the girls were totally unrestrained, and happily in control of the feedings. The frat boys seemed eager, even devoted, to their women, seeing to their every want, from more food, to belly rubbing, or stroking more intimately.  
     Upstairs, Jessica quickly found Craig in his room, still typing away on his laptop. Pausing at his door, she knocked on the open door. Craig jumped and slammed his laptop shut, whirling to see who it was. Seeing Jessica, he relaxed and grabbed a flash drive. “Three days’ worth of video, starting from the time she left lunch after Chris saw her after that last party,” he said, holding it up to her. “Can I get to the party now, or do you want more from me?”  
     “You’re already done?” she asked. “What were you typing just now? Please tell me you weren’t just blogging about it.”  
     He actually laughed. “Yeah, I really want to get kicked out, _and_ arrested for trying to help Josie. Can I go party?”  
     Jessica nodded absently. “Yeah, go ahead.”  
     Craig gave one last try. “You wanna come too?”  
     She started to refuse, more on principle than anything else, when her stomach growled loudly. When was the last time she ate a real meal? She’d grabbed a few snacks during the day, of course, but it had been breakfast since she last really sat down and fed.  
     Finally, her stomach made the decision, and she said, “you know what? Why not. Lead on, kid.”  
     As they went down the stairs, Craig grinning widely, he called to the room, “we have another guest!”  
     Reaching the ground floor, Craig gestured to one side of the main room, where a few brothers had pulled away from the many feedings going on and were setting up a lounge chair. “Please, sit,” he said respectfully. “Relax and let us do the work. Unless you’d like to do it yourself?”  
     Jessica thought a bit. “I think I’ll take care of myself, thank you,” she said as she lowered her massive body into the chair. It creaked under the strain as she settled in. She saw most of her “attendants” grin at the sound, just before they whirled around and placed huge tray-stands at her elbows, easy to reach, and piled them high with all kinds of snack food.  
     Smiling in anticipation, Jessica was surprised to find that she was really looking forward to this. She had, naturally, done some research about feedism, but she’d never experienced it firsthand, not really. It amazed her that having an eager audience was kind of exciting her. She reached out to the trays on both sides of her chair and grabbing two huge handfuls, shoving them in her mouth one after the other. With both in there, her cheeks bulged wide, and it took her more effort than she was used to, to chew and swallow, but working her jaw, she managed.  
     Grabbing two more handfuls, Jessica stuffed them both in again, looking around at the boys sitting around her. With her feeding herself, most of them were avidly watching the goings-on all around the room, not paying her any more, or less, attention than the others.  
     Muscle memory kept her arms and jaws going steadily, automatically. Her eyes roamed the room as she fed, watching the other women. As before, some fed themselves, either with one hand while rubbing their own growing belly or using both hands and letting the boys massage them. Others let the boys feed them, relaxing with their arms behind their heads, or rubbing their own bellies. One or two of them were clearly so overstuffed that the boys were doing everything, feeding and massaging, and the women only had to chew. Still others were being fed through tubes, having weight gain shakes or some other liquid poured into their eager mouths, gulping quickly to keep up with the deluge. But keep up they did, every one, growing fatter and more packed (some visibly swelling).  
     Craig stayed with her the whole time, but the rest drifted away when other women caught their eye, or wandered over to her to watch (seeming to hope she'd want, or even need, their help).  
     Like her long isolation in front of the TV, Jessica fell into a trance state, endlessly stuffing one handful after another in, chewing and swallowing, inflating her stomach with food.  
     With more variety than her solo sessions, and no need to get up and restock (the boys were attentive, and made sure she never ran out), Jessica filled up to capacity much sooner than she ever had before. She stopped feeding and lay on the lounge chair, panting and massaging her stuffed belly. Craig reached out, gently, tenderly, and looked up at her face, clearly asking permission. After a second’s consideration, she nodded, and he pulled her shirt, now skin-tight, up exposing her belly-flesh, sheened with sweat and rising firm and tightly-packed from her body.  
     Despite herself, Jessica tensed (as much as she could, with the massive load crammed in her), but he was a past expert at belly-rubs. In moments, the painful tightness eased and she let out a few belches as the contents of her stomach shifted.  
     “Still hungry?” he asked quietly. Her hands joined his briefly, probing outside as she considered the inside, and she nodded. “Could I...?” he whispered.  
     She didn't bother talking, just nodded again. Calling some others to keep up the massage, he rose and stood between her head and one of the trays.  
     Between the continual gentle massage easing her belly’s increasing fullness, and the steady feeding by Craig, Jessica quickly realized why so many women came to these parties. The boys were attentive, gentle, and never pushed her, never forgot she was in charge. As Craig stuffed her far and farther beyond where she'd gone before, she relaxed into the mindless, repetitive rhythm of feeding.

     A timeless span later, a voice broke through the haze. “I'm so sorry, ladies, it's getting to curfew. We'll have to wrap up.”  
     The feeding stopped, and she blinked, looking up to see, not just Craig, but 2 others as well, all three helping stuff her. Disturbed that she hadn't even noticed 2 strangers cramming food into her, she glared at Craig. He shrugged, saying, “I asked you if it was okay; you nodded, clear as day.”  
     Searching her memory, she remembered, vaguely, being upset at how slow her stuffing was. When the other 2 offered, and Craig asked her, she'd absently agreed, not really paying attention. She shrugged back. “Okay, I guess.”  
     He relaxed, and asked with a gentle smile, “do you need help getting up?”  
     “I never did before,” she answered.  
     Still smiling, he said, “maybe not, but I don't think you've been fed like this before either.”  
     She looked down, really seeing her belly for the first time. It was gargantuan! It rose above her prone body like a beachball, smooth and bulging huge and rounded. She gently reached up, nearly to her arms’ full span, cradling it and rubbing over the tightly stretched skin. Beachball! More like a bowling ball from the weight, except much much larger. Tensing her back, she tested her mobility. The gigantic ball of her massive belly made it awkward, but her heaved with her arms, rolled on to her side, and used both arms and legs to lever herself up. With her super-strength, she managed it, and stood up, leaning far back to offset her heavy, protruding belly. “Whoof!” she gasped, reaching forward to cradle her belly and hold it up.  
     Craig gaped at her, impressed. “Nobody ever stood up that easy after their first party, and after eating that much!”  
     “I'm not most people,” Jessica answered.  
     “So I see,” he said, openly ogling her new bulging belly. “Well, you're welcome back any time! Um, I didn't get your name?”  
     Already waddling towards the door, she called over her shoulder, “just call me Jessica.”

     Outside, she leaned heavily against a light pole, adjusting to her new center of gravity. Her strength let her stay uptight easily, but her balance was shot. Checking her pocket for the flash drive, she pushed off the post, wobbling as she found her new center of mass. After taking a few experiential waddling steps, she made her way back home.

     She slept late, exhausted from last night’s several-hour-long stuffing marathon. Most of her energy went to digesting the massive load in her stuffed belly, too, and that kept her out longer than she might have wanted.  
     Finally up, she stayed in her nightgown, and put the flash drive into her computer, opening the folder on it, and looked at the file and folder names. She had to give Craig credit; he’d gotten hold of most of the cameras on campus, sorted by location and time index. Pulling up the cam from right outside the cafeteria for lunchtime after Joselyn’s last party, she quickly spotted the woman. She didn’t let herself react, but even in the little time between the photo she had and the security footage, Joselyn had ballooned. She had to be at least 400 pounds in the first of the videos.  
     Many hours later, Jessica felt her eyes would start to bleed if she had to look through any more video footage. The table, and even the surrounding floor, were littered with empty snack wrappers and soda bottles drained dry. But she’d found a pattern. From that afternoon, there was one man, besides Young, who seemed to appear whenever Joselyn was on camera. Then, the end of the footage she had, from three full days, Joselyn hadn’t been seen anywhere for 12 hours or so. And the unknown man vanished about the same time. Jessica wasn’t really surprised that the cops hadn’t put it together; he never contacted her, never made an obvious look at her. But he was gone when she was. Jessica was sure he had something to do with her disappearance.  
Now to figure out who he was. She brushed off her hands, then zoomed and enhanced the still shot, and copied it to her phone. That done, she glanced around the table and sighed, then tossed the wrappers and bottles into the trashcan, before scrubbing off her hands and brushing the crumbs off her shirt. Dusting the last bits off her hands, she headed out.  
     First stop, Detective Mahoney, NYPD. Jessica wasn't sure he'd help her, but she figured he might think he owed her, after Kilgrave. Just thinking of him, she tensed and reflexively started to rub her belly, still a bit packed from last night. The gentle massage help her stay calm and push the memories back.  
     Smiling at her success, Jessica left her apartment. Like any good PI, she had a sense of where to find people, and sure enough, she found Mahoney having his lunch in a diner a couple of blocks from the precinct house.  
     She got to his table with no reaction from him. As she pulled the chair out, way out, he suddenly recognized her, and gaped at her change.  
     “Yeah, I know,” she said. “I'm looking into a missing persons cold case. Joselyn Takahashi. Do you know this guy?” she went on, pulling out her phone with the photo already up.  
     He seemed stunned by her new size. He stammered out, “uh, yeah, that looks like Spano Grassi. He's muscle for a low-level dealer, Big Al Pirelli. Relatively minor players. You think he might have something to do with your case? What the hell happened to you?”  
     Jessica sighed. “Not sure; he might. Originally some...PTSD, but I kinda like it now. What do you think?” she finished, gently running one hand over her bulging belly.  
     He stammered again, totally flustered. His eyes never left her expansive midsection. Jessica chose to interpret that as appreciation, and got up, throwing a last, “thanks for the info!” as she left.  
     Outside, she got scarce before he could recover and chase her down. That went better than she could have hoped; now she had a name, a boss, and a tie to criminal activities. Now to locate Grassi and/or Pirelli.  
     Malcolm probably knew them, or of them. Back home, then.  
     She went right to Malcolm’s apartment and knocked on the door. “Yeah!” he called, and she heard him heading got the door.  
     When he opened it, he stopped dead, staring at her new immensity. Already, she was used to it, and just waited. Finally, he shook his head, saying, “I know I'm not messed up. What happened to you?”  
     “I had to deal with the fall-out.”  
     Malcolm nodded; he knew about what Kilgrave could do, and how hard it could be to get past it. “Okay,” was all he said.  
     “You're clean, then?” Jessica asked, getting right to business.  
     He shifted back and forth between his two feet. “Well, I try.”  
     “That's all anybody can do,” she answered. “Listen, I have a name I need to find. I thought you might know where. Spano Grassi?”  
     Malcolm shook his head. “Sounds familiar, but I'm not sure.”  
     “How about Al Pirelli?” Jessica tried.  
     Malcolm nodded vigorously. “Big Al? Yeah, I've heard of him. I never used him; he didn't carry my stuff. But, I did hear he's branching out, trying something new.”  
     Yes! Jessica thought. Aloud, she asked Malcolm, “he have a new production site?”  
     “He has something,” Malcolm answered. “With Fisk out of action, Al moved into an old warehouse of his.”  
     “Where?” asked Jessica.  
     “Dunno. Like I said, I never used Big Al’s stuff, and I don’t even know what new thing he’s into now.”  
     Jessica nodded as she left. “Thanks anyway, that’s more than I had before.” She thought about Wilson Fisk, called Kingpin by some. He was in prison now, but unlike Malcolm, she figured he was far from out of action. Less intelligent and ruthless crime-lords had run their empires from behind bars; she was really sure he was too. But, with Daredevil facing him, it was likely Fisk had in fact cut back a bit. She just had to do some legwork, and figure out where this warehouse was that Fisk had abandoned. Fortunately, she thought with a smirk, even fattened up this much, her legs were still as strong as ever, and just as enduring.

     Long after midnight, actually closer to dawn, she remembered her mental boast, and snorted. Her superhuman endurance was put to the test tonight, sure enough. But she had finally found the warehouse that Al Pirelli was set up in. A quick short flight to an upper window, and Jessica could look in. It seemed he was getting into a new business. Thin(ish) women came in, paid him huge wads of cash, and a quick light show later, the women would balloon with weight in seconds. It was actually fascinating to watch; he had the women stand in a particular spot, totally nude, then a green-blue light beam ran over their bodies, head to feet and back up, and in seconds, they inflated like balloons, their stomachs billowing outwards, growing rolls and sagging down over their swelling legs. Their asses expanded, pulling the sides of their torsos outwards, their sides in turn lifting their arms. The arms bloated too, developing loose flab hanging down. Their breasts puffed out, at first held to firm roundness from the speed, but soon enough flopping down onto the growing belly.  
     Every woman Jessica watched go through the process ended up a different size and weight (likely according to preference), but each one ended at least twice her original size, and many of them far larger than that.  
     As they finished, they staggered under the new weight, showing it was real, and not some kind of gas inflation, and struggled to move their new mass to get dressed in clothes they had brought with them, fitted to their new size, of course.  
     After the last woman left, Grassi went to check the doors, then both of them went into a sealed room in the middle of the warehouse floor, away from the outer walls. Jessica noted that the heavy door took both of them pushing to get it open. Once they were out of sight, Jessica tried to think. How did they pull off the instant weight gain, and with real fat, by appearances? And why would that be a thing now? Well, there seemed to be a major cultural shift going on, appreciating fat instead of reviling it, so some fashion plates might be using desperate measures to meet the new standards of beauty. And where the hell was Joselyn? She must be in that sealed room, unless she was somewhere else entirely. Might as well check that room after those two were gone. If she wasn’t here, Jessica could follow them when they left tomorrow night. One more day galled her, but likely wouldn’t matter overmuch.  
     She watched them leave, and waited another half-hour to make sure they weren’t coming back tonight. In the dim glow from the distant streetlights, she couldn’t be really sure, but she didn’t see any alarms set up.  
     Once she was sure they were gone for the night, Jessica glanced around quickly, then leaned on the window. It cracked quickly under her weight, then she slammed both hands on the edges of the frame, sending the glass shards to the floor far below.  
     Mentally blessing the designer of the warehouse for the huge upper windows, big enough for her to fit through, she slipped through the frame. She lowered herself onto a catwalk, sending it vibrating with her impact. Winding her way through the maze of walkways, she soon enough made it to the main floor, watching for alarms or security cameras all the while.  
     Slowly waddling to the main door of the sealed inner room, Jessica still could see no alarms or cameras. That surprised her. If this was originally Fisk’s, and now being used by a dealer, there should be something set up for security. Shrugging, she turned her attention to the door. Not locked, which surprised her again. Just latched. More importantly, she gauged its width against her own massive girth. It might be a squeeze, but she figured she could get herself through.  
     She grabbed the main handle, bracing herself and pushing at it, using both her natural super-strength, and her mammoth body mass to get it to move. She easily pushed the door open, and entered the inner room.  
     Inside, it was totally dark. As she felt around for a light switch, she heard sobbing. Her face went grim; it had to be Joselyn. Still cautious, she pushed the door closed, then called out, “Joselyn? Joselyn Takahashi? My name is Jessica Jones. Are you here?”  
     Still sobbing, Joselyn wailed, “who are you? What are you doing here? Why did he send you? Don’t I even get any time alone anymore?”  
     Jessica answered, “you mean Pirelli? He didn’t send me. Your mother did. I’m here to get you out.”  
     A bitter laugh came. “Oh, yeah. Good luck with that.”  
     At last, Jessica found a light switch. Flipping it on, she turned to find Joselyn. And gaped.  
     Finding her was actually quite easy. She was by far the biggest single thing in the room. Joselyn was absolutely immense, so gargantuanly fat that her mammoth folds of flab dwarfed Jessica’s impressive girth to nothing.  
     Joselyn’s upper arms had become easily as wide as some women’s waists, with folds hanging down covering her elbows, making it difficult to bend them. Her forearms as well were two or three times any “normal” size, with their own folds encompassing her wrists. Her hands, now so inflated with fat they were nearly spherical, were so bloated that they almost completely covered her swollen sausage fingers. Jessica could see Joselyn spend some effort trying to close her hands to fists, likely out of reflex, but she couldn’t begin to bend the puffed-out fingers enough.  
     Jessica’s eyes roved far and wide to look over the rest of Joselyn’s body. Her neck and even her face had grown so much during her captivity that she couldn’t even move her head very much. Her face was nearly buried in uncountable folds of flab, blending her puffy head and cheeks through her bulging neck, right into her fatty body in a smooth curve.  
     Joselyn’s breasts had expanded out so far that they actually covered a sizeable part of her impossibly mammoth belly. Even with the soft fatty tissue pulled down by gravity, they mostly rested on the gigantic arch of her stomach, holding them up and letting them billow out easily a meter or more from her torso, and spread out sideways around half the span of her bloated arms. Joselyn reached forward to try to cover up the massive fleshy pillows, likely out of some sense of modesty, but between their expansion and her arms’ tremendous size, she could barely reach halfway along them. She reflexively rubbed gently along the sensitive skin, shuddering with the sensations racing over their enormity.  
     Jessica’s glance ranged down Joselyn’s body to her imposing ass. It stretched out behind Joselyn half a meter or more, and lifted up high above her own head as she lay on the floor. Joselyn’s legs were completely hidden from her view, but Jessica could see her feet, as spherical as her hands and Joselyn trying (and failing) to wiggle her toes, knew them bloated as much as her fingers.  
     From the positions of her beachball feet, Jessica thought that Joselyn’s legs were held almost to a split by their own massive size; the insides of her thighs squeezing tight together and forcing her legs apart. Looking close, she could just manage to separate the innumerable massive folds of Joselyn’s body into different body parts. Jessica saw the apron of flab hanging from Joselyn’s thighs over her knees. As Jessica watched, Joselyn worked her ankles, moving her feet around, and Jessica saw waves from their rubbing against the similar aprons hanging from her fattened calves over her enveloped feet.  
     Jessica finally let herself consider Joselyn’s truly gargantuan belly. She could see the belly reaching out easily 2 full yards from her front, and spreading out as she lay, more than a yard to either side. It formed a heavy apron, completely covering her legs, with just the tips of her bloated feet sticking out from underneath.  
     Joselyn lowered her elephantine arms to rest on her even more mammoth belly. “You see? How are you expecting to move me anywhere before he comes back?”  
     Walking slowly towards the impossible mammoth woman, Jessica absently flexed her arms and rolled her shoulders. “I’m very strong,” she said.  
     Bitterness gave Joselyn a bit of anger in her tone, as she answered, “but I won’t even fit through the door any more.”  
     Glancing over her shoulder, Jessica gave a sigh. “There is that,” she said. “What happened to you?”  
     “I don’t know how I ended up here. I just blacked out one day on campus, and woke up in this warehouse. I wasn’t this fat then. Only 400, maybe 450. But, Big Al told me he had big plans for me.” She gave a snort. “I didn’t know how big, then. He gave me some kind of drug. It made me absorb fat from women who wanted to lose weight. And another one, that kept me obedient. I was so wasted, that all he had to do was tell me to absorb, and I would.  
     “Then, a couple weeks ago, he brought a thin woman, who actually wanted to get fat. He had me reverse it, and send the fat to her. Not a lot, but enough to get her double her weight. I don’t know why so many women want to get fat now, but he gets paid, and makes me give them fat.  
     “Over there,” she continued, with a glance to the side. (Her eyes were really all she could move.) Jessica looked and saw a massive tube-feeding set-up, with a tank at least 500 gallons, a fire-hose for water, and dozens of bulk packages of weight-gain shake mix, at least 100 pounds each. Joselyn went on, “they keep a feeding machine to keep me fat enough that I can supply whoever wants it, with as much weight as they want. And still stay immobile.”  
     Tears were running down her face freely, and she stumbled in her relating. Jessica nodded gently. “And since there are lots of men who like this sort of thing now, he lets them use you.”  
     Wordlessly, Joselyn nodded despairingly, sending waves rolling through the massive fat deposits surrounding her head and neck. At least, Jessica thought she nodded. Her upper body was far too huge and bloated to be really sure. “Both sex and just stuffing me. When I’m drugged, I just can’t refuse being fed. I’m just so hungry all the time on that shit.”  
     “You seem okay now,” Jessica said.  
     “He doesn’t waste it overnight. I don’t need to absorb or give, and I can’t escape anyway, so why waste the drugs?”  
     “Well, I think I can knock out a wall of this place, and get you out of here,” Jessica said.

     “Oh no you can’t!” came a voice from the door. Jessica whirled and saw Pirelli and Grassi, each one with an uzi pointed right at her. Pirelli kept talking, “she’s mine. With all the women now who want to get fat, and the extra from men who want to stuff her even fatter, or fuck her everywhere on her fat body, I’m making a mint.”  
     He smiled viciously. “I bet I can make even more with 2 of you.” Handing his gun to Grassi, who took one in each hand, still aiming them both at Jessica, Pirelli started walking towards her, pulling out a syringe as he came.  
     “I feel I should tell you,” Jessica bluffed. “I’m basically bullet-proof.”  
     He laughed at that. “Maybe so, but they’ll slow you down until I can get this into you,” he said, holding up the full syringe, the fluid inside glistening. “And then you’re mine, too.”  
     Tensing for a little rough and tumble, Jessica kept her face hard. No way she was letting these scum off. Grassi saw her tense, and tightened his grip on the guns.  
     Suddenly, Joselyn screamed a wordless cry, and instantly, both of the men inflated. Jessica stared a moment, watching them swell, inflating as fast as balloons inflated from a pressure tank.  
     Pirelli's whole body swelled up impossibly, every part already several times its normal size, and billowing outwards faster and faster. His legs had grown so much that he could no longer move them under their own power. His thighs pushed against each other as they expanded, forcing his legs into a split, and had already flowed down over his knees, preventing him from bending them; his calves had covered his feet; and the feet themselves were swollen to the size and shape of beach balls. As Jessica watched, transfixed, his pants began popping, then tearing, exploding off the inflating fat of his body. His hands were so fat that they looked like basketballs, with swollen, overstuffed sausages sticking out for fingers. Both men fell backwards as their muscles gave out, unable to keep them upright against their massive inflating fat pulling them down.  
     Jessica glanced to Grassi; it was just as well that he’d already thrown down his guns, grabbing for his inflating belly; his fingers were so bloated now that they wouldn’t fit in the trigger guard; he wouldn’t even twitch them to fire. Grassi’s arms were just as completely immobile as his legs; their own size held them straight out from his body, shredding the sleeves of his shirt as they ballooned. His ass was growing so big that it lifted his increasing bulk up off the ground, higher each second. Even his neck and head were inflating; so much so that he couldn’t turn to look anywhere but straight up. His billowing fat formed into tits that pushed up into his face by his expanding belly, and each was, impossibly, already bigger around than her whole body had been before the impossible inflation. But, as gigantic as he was, his belly dwarfed everything else. It was easily six or seven times its previous size, and still expanding, visibly spreading out from his torso like spilled water, pooling in fat deposits surrounding him on all sides.  
     Jessica’s eyes darted between the two men; they were equally massive, almost twins of obesity, totally immobilized and surrounded by the tattered remains of their exploded clothing. She looked back to Joselyn.  
     Joselyn was now nearly thin. She’d shed almost all of her immense force-fed weight, and was now easily mobile.  
     Still naked, she walked, easily now, towards Jessica. As she neared, both women heard a gurgled, “hrr?” from Pirelli.  
     Turning on him, Joselyn growled, “How? You mean how could I do it without your drugs? You’re too fat to even talk, let alone move. Why should I answer anything?”  
     Jessica decided to mock him. “Your drugs must have triggered something in her. She can do it by herself now, no need for any drugs of yours. I think, even if you can get out of this ever, you should let her alone. Unless you want her to blow you up even bigger than this.”  
     Picking up the narrative, Joselyn added, “now that I know I can do more than one person at a time, it’d be easy for me to absorb fat from every person around me, swell myself up to a whale, and push it all on both of you, or just you,” she finished, glaring at Pirelli, “if you try to come after me.”  
     Reaching down, she grabbed what could be recovered of their clothing, draping a shirt over her now-120ish-pound body, and pulling up the remains of pants, tying them with a shredded sleeve to make some sort of skirt.  
     Grassi mumbled through his newly bloated lips, barely understandable, “wha ab’t us?”  
     Joselyn whirled on him. “What about you? You did it to me! You kept me so stuffed I couldn’t move; so drugged I couldn’t even refuse you! Now you take it. I could just have her keep you held while I suck it all out of you and shove it into Al. He’d likely explode, with all that fat suddenly blowing him up. Then I could pull it all from the remains back into me, then hit you. Would you rather that? Or isn’t that the kind of fat girl play you want?”  
     Not wasting another moment on them, she stalked out of the room. Jessica followed, leaving the door wide open. They sure weren’t going anywhere, and the first client of the night would find them and call EMTs and/or cops. Or maybe not. Maybe they’d stay there until their bodies naturally processed it all, and they were mobile again. If they didn’t die of thirst before that. Jessica really couldn’t be bothered to care.

     Jessica escorted Joselyn back to her own apartment. She called Trish over, and the three talked the rest of the night through, till long past dawn. Talking seemed to help Joselyn start to come to terms, and Trish had a therapist ready for her call, if she needed it.  
     They also talked about Joselyn’s new power. Neither Jessica nor Joselyn (now that she thought about it) saw any evidence of stretch marks on any of the women, or on Pirelli and Grassi, or on Joselyn herself; it seemed that her ability allowed for easy stretching of the skin to match whatever expansion or reduction she did. With the new appreciation for large sizes, Joselyn would likely have any number of ready sources to pull from, if she wanted. And if she wanted to, she could easily lose any part of her “base” weight by spreading it over dozens (or more) bystanders. “I don’t know,” Joselyn said. “I really do love eating, and I kinda like being big, too. Maybe I’ll figure out what weight will suit me best.” Laughing quietly, she went on, “it’ll be easy now for me to maintain. I think I might go back to school, take up with Phi Delt again. They always had great parties.”  
     Jessica smiled, adding, “I know.”  
     When both Trish and Joselyn stared in surprise at her, she continued, “well, I had one of them hack the security cams to find out who was stalking you. When they were done, I was hungry,” she finished, shrugging.  
     Joselyn chuckled, looking Jessica’s body up and down. “I bet they loved you.”  
     “It’s about 9 AM,” Jessica said, ignoring that. “You mother will be wanting to know you’re safe. Keep my card. If you ever get in any kind of trouble, call me.”  
     Joselyn stood and hugged Jessica. “I will. Thank you.”


End file.
